


Listening to Silence

by whitewolfos



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Could be read as romantic, Gen, Resurrection Ritual, Tag Suggestions Welcome, spoilers for RQG 176, written pre-RQG 177
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27701624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewolfos/pseuds/whitewolfos
Summary: Zolf is ready to guide his oldest friend back to life, but Wilde himself is not as sure.
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Listening to Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This was written the day before RQG 177 aired, so I'm sure that this will go differently in the episode. It will be interesting though to see what parts of this are the same and what are different compared to the actual episode (though hopefully the ending will be similar? Please?)

It has been such a long time since the party set off from Hiroshima that Zolf had almost forgotten what this type of quiet felt like. On the airship there was always something producing noise: the ship creaking, conversations from across the deck, the sharp tap-tap-tap of kobolds scurrying about. In this… plane? realm? the only noise comes from a soft wind blowing. No heat, or life, or movement, not even the gentle swaying of the bear below him. Just silence, and stillness.

Even if Zolf had his eyes open, he doubts that he could even begin to navigate this place properly without that soft tug in his chest guiding him. Though for all he knows this pull will just lead him right off of the platform and he would never know until it’s too late. But Zolf has put his trust in Wilde time and time again, and this _feels_ like him, so he follows his instincts and continues to march forward.

Until, in a way that he cannot explain, the feeling changes.

“…Zolf?”

He opens his eyes. His walking seems to have taken him near the end of the city platform. While Zolf can see the sky and far-off mountains, what should be ground and trees far, far below him have been replaced by a gently swirling mist. But, more importantly than that, he sees Wilde standing before him, slightly dazed.

Zolf cannot help but stare. The man looks perfectly fine: no terrible wound, no scrapes or bruises, not even any tears in his clothing. In fact, he looks better than ever. While he still has that scar, his face seems fuller, somehow. It is as if he actually had a few good meals and a decent night of sleep, and there is a lightness about him that Zolf hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Hey there, Wilde.”

Wilde gestures vaguely at the landscape behind him. “What… What is all of this? Where are we?”

Zolf breathes deeply. He will freely admit that his bedside manner is terrible, but this is Wilde, and he has to try. “What’s the last thing you can remember?”

“I… We… We were having a party on the ship? At the bar?” Wilde brings a hand to his forehead and frowns deeply. “No, wait… We went below decks to prepare for the borealis, and there was some kind of commotion? Something went wrong?”

“We got through the borealis alright,” Zolf says, trying his best to keep his voice even. “But the ship went a bit… strange, and we lost one of the engines. We had to make an emergency landing, but everything was happening too quickly, and there wasn’t enough time for everyone to properly secure themselves, and—“

“And I fell,” Wilde murmurs, bringing his hand down from his forehead to hover over the area where he was impaled by the ship. The overcast sky seems to darken ever so slightly.

Zolf can’t think of anything to say to that, so he simply nods.

“So, I take it you fell too?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, I pulled through alright.” His mind wants to wander to taking Wilde off of the ship, laying the bodies out, staring at Wilde’s too-pale face and thinking _What do I do now?_ but Zolf is stubborn, and he refuses to dwell. “The crash alerted some… natives, I suppose, who said they could perform a type of resurrection. So I’m here to take you back, if you’ll let me.”

“Breaking a taboo just for me, eh Zolf?” Wilde is grinning, but there is something _wrong_ in that smile. “So sentimental! I should feel honored!”

“Oh, sod it. Come on, let’s go already.” He stretches his hand towards his friend.

Wilde stares at Zolf’s hand for a moment before turning his gaze to the various buildings. “Oh, I don’t know Zolf, I think I could make this work.” He tilts his head slightly, appraising the structures. “Not the most stylish place that I’ve ever lived in, but I’m sure they look cozier on the inside.”

Zolf’s entire body runs cold. “You… you can’t be serious.”

The man shrugs. “Even you have to admit that it is a pretty amazing view. Plus, it seems pretty quiet! No blue veins around either! Can’t say that about the real world!” Wilde jolts slightly, as if he is just remembering something, and he snaps his fingers. Several balls of light materialize around him and with a wave of his fingers the lights weave through the buildings, causing stark shadows along the walls. “Can’t have that in the real world either.”

“Wilde, come on, this isn’t funny…!”

Ignoring him, Wilde lifts up his right leg and gives it a shake. The pants leg rides up enough to show his bare ankles. “And no cuffs either! You would think after more than eighteen months I would be used to the blasted things, but honestly I never did. They’re much heavier than they look, you know!”

Chuckling to himself, he jumps and clicks his heels together. However, he seems to have misjudged his landing and he wobbles, off balance, stepping closer to the edge. Zolf is already tensing himself to leap after him but Wilde manages to right himself at the last second.

“Godsdammit, Wilde! Be careful!”

Wilde’s grin stretches as wide as his scar will allow. “What does it even matter, Zolf? I’m _dead_.”

Zolf has no way of knowing the expression that flashes across his own face, but Wilde freezes in response. The cheer and false bravado slip from his features, his posture, and Zolf can glimpse eyes that look so _tired_ before the man turns away.

“I have been through enough,” Wilde murmurs, a hand coming up to rub soft circles on the cheek with his scar. “Why can’t you just let me rest?”

For a moment, all Zolf can do is stand there, trying and failing to unclench his hands that have already curled into tight fists. “No,” he says, only just keeping the snarl out of his tone. “You don’t get to do that, after everything we’ve been through together! You can’t just give up!”

“You are perfectly capable of leading the rest of the party to—“

“This isn’t about _capability_ , or will, or whatever it is that you’re thinking right now. We want you here for _you_! Not for what you can do for us, not for whether you can sling a spell, or come up with a grand plan to instantly fix everything, or some other such nonsense. We need the Oscar Wilde who kept going even after the world went to hell, who was still fighting even after everyone else thought it was hopeless. We need the Oscar Wilde who saw how the whole crew was struggling after the borealis and decided to hold a freaking party! You came dressed as the ship! Despite everyone being so scared that they may never get back into their own bodies again, you actually got them to smile, and laugh, and brought them together as a crew for the first time since we actually left Hiroshima!”

“We… we need…” Zolf’s whole body is shaking, and he is not crying, he’s _not_. “I need…”

To anyone else, Wilde would seem completely unmoved, his face and body language completely walled off and cold. But Zolf knows him better than anyone, has seen him act this way during quarantine checks on both sides of the jail cell, and he knows how much his friend is trying to keep it together.

“Oscar, _please_.”

That’s all it takes. Wilde practically deflates, head falling into his hands. For a long time the two of them just stand there, without saying a word, before finally Wilde raises his head slightly to look Zolf straight in the eyes. “You can be infuriating, you know that?”

“If that’s what it takes to save you, so be it.”

Wilde barks a laugh that is probably meant to be bitter, but honestly just comes off as relieved. “Well then,” he says, holding out his hand to Zolf, “let’s head back together, shall we?”

Zolf grabs Wilde’s hand in his own and, after giving it a short squeeze, begins walking back towards the ritual site.


End file.
